The Gene of the Ancients (Rogue Merchant Book #2): LitRPG Series by Roman Prokofiev (ebook reader for comics .TXT) 📗

mastering it, gave 100 more. Green hadn’t lied. After obtaining all secondary skills and getting them to a half-decent level, I unlocked a new rare archetype: Clan Trader.

Essentially, it was an advanced version of Novice Trader, as it significantly increased the available number of lots and contracts that I could put up by myself and allowed me to act on behalf of clan instead of just my character. Unfortunately, as I found out, switching archetypes was possible only in Rest mode and required a 12-hour cooldown. Fair enough; an ability to switch archetypes at will would have been a cheat.

While Novice Trader was turning into the Clan one, I turned to looking for the thief.

I wasn’t especially greedy, but nobody liked parting with their stuff for no reason, especially with gifts from old friends. That’s why I decided to attempt to retrieve the stolen Atlas while the trail was still fresh. I wrote the pickpocket.

HotCat: Hi. Sorry for bothering you. Do you have a minute?

 

Kesson: I take it you want the atlas. That’s a nifty thing.

 

HotCat: Listen, don’t rub it in. How much?

 

Kesson: Hehe. You’re so polite, I’m touched. When people write to me, they usually talk smack, swear to find me, rip my arms off. So just for you, I’ll put it up for auction for two thousand gold!

 

I almost blew up from indignation. Full Atlas of AlexOrder was a pretty niche item that was valuable only in Dorsa. It wasn’t worth two thousand — a thousand, maybe a thousand and two hundred. The little weasel realized that I needed the Atlas and decided to make a quick buck. On the one hand, I couldn’t help but respect him, as I was the same. Kesson had immediately grasped the situation, finding a weakness and dictating his price.

Kesson: Atlas is auctioned. It’s a limited offer valid for an hour. After that, I’ll take it off and sell it to anyone who buys it, except for you.

 

Before answering, I decided to research him. I opened Kesson’s kill rating.

He was an interesting guy, a member of DarkNet, one of Sphere’s most vicious griefers. It was more of a social club than a classic clan; many of its members had never even met one another. They called themselves Collectors of Pain. Their forum topic was swelling, full of fondly written reports on con jobs, thefts, frauds, and successful betrayals. The best thing, however, were the howls of protectors of the wronged, who dove into that evil lair, brandishing their swords. For Darksiders (that’s what DarkNet members called themselves), the coolest feat was to join some clan with a newly created character, ingratiate themselves, gain an important role...and pick the clan warehouse clean, withdrawing money from the clan accounts of those who had confided in them. Their guru was Jessica, a Sphere-renowned player who had devised and implemented dozens of similar schemes. In short, DarkNet was hated, despised, and feared.

HotCat: All right, forget Atlas. You can sell it. Tell me, can you screw over anyone just like that?

 

Kesson: Well, almost. I’m a pro!

 

HotCat: Then why are you wasting your talents on trifles? You should be pilfering epics from high level players.

 

Kesson: You never know who has epics.

 

HotCat: Then hear me out...

 

After a half-hour discussion, I took my Atlas from the storehouse — tellingly, only for five hundred gold. Well, let it be an entry fee. My real gain was a very promising new acquaintance that advanced me one tiny step closer to my plan.

Kesson: I can’t really say. I need to talk to Jes, can’t stir the pot without her.

 

HotCat: Think of the butt hurt! I’ll be in touch.

Kesson: Ha-ha! Yeah, they’ll lose their shit! All right, I’ll write you. Peace out.

 

* * *

 

Two days ago

 

WARNING... INITIALIZING ENTRY INTO SPHERE OF WORLDS...

 

NEURAL INTERFACE HAS BEEN LOADED…

 

USER ID DEFINED...

 

TOTAL IMMERSION IN PROGRESS...

 

The Diamond subscription that had popped up out of nowhere provided a plethora of bonuses, the most important of which wasn’t kill rating or forum anonymity, VIP packs, and a personal manager, but the ability to create a second avatar on my account. The uninitiated did speculate about it, but nobody really knew anything. As it turned out, the “one capsule — one character” rule didn’t cover the Diamonds. Truly, money ruled the world. Quod licet Iovi, non licet bovi.

I twiddled with the settings of my second avatar. With my current subscription, I had everything unlocked from the get-go: all worlds, all races, all appearance options. The goal was to create the perfect assistant who wouldn’t get linked to the good old Cat in a million years.

I scrolled through the race list, then again. The mind boggled at some of the creatures there, from basic humans, elves, and dwarves of all kinds and variations to centaurs, minotaurs, and ogres. I found the snake people — they had some pretty nifty perks — and the fairies. And what’s that? Whoa!

Again and again, I re-read the descriptions of racial abilities, feeling myself break into a Cheshire cat grin. At last, I found just what I needed!

* * *

 

The Bazaar, the Seventeenth Tower, VIP apartment

 

As soon as I created my alt, I started a topic on the official forum in the Alchemy section, Russian-speaking version. There, I posted a screenshot of my Tincture of Fire and a question from a newbie, saying I had asked what that was and if I should bother myself studying Alchemy for that potion. Help me ppl!

I had also written that the recipe was a starting reward in some questline without mentioning what NPC faction handed them out, which was, essentially, the truth. Afterward, I hadn’t opened that topic, to maintain the experimental integrity.

Upon my return to